Every Day Is Like Today (Until It's Tomorrow)
by kiras-hale
Summary: Malia swears that all she wanted was the coffee. She didn't want to be caught up in the life that is Kira Yukimura, but now that she's here, she doesn't want to leave. Or, Kira is a badass in life and behind a Starbucks counter, and Malia is craving coffee (and maybe something else, but she'd never admit it.) Malira one-shot.


"Grande cinnamon dolce latte, please," Malia sighed, her thoughts racing at a million miles an hour and at half speed, all at once. She reached into her pocket to gather the exact $4.25 which she spent every day, but when she looked up, the barista was giving her a confused look.

"Sorry," she said, shrugging, "I don't believe we serve that here."

Malia almost choked on something she hadn't swallowed. "Um, yes you do," she said. "I ordered it here yesterday, and the day before, and the day before."

The barista just shook her head and smiled. "I'm sure we do not serve that beverage here. Is there anything else I can get you?"

"Please, it's on your menu!" Malia was practically begging at this point. She didn't want to fight her, because she knew that an occupation at Starbucks wasn't desirable, but she was _sure_ that they had it here; it was her daily order. Not getting the latte would mean everything would go wrong.

"Miss, I'm sorry, I really am," the barista insisted, her tone calm and almost chastising. "But that drink is not on our menu."

Well, that was it. Malia was resigned to her entire day going wrong and was about to get a vanilla latte instead, when behind her she heard, "Oh, for fuck's sake, I'll make the drink."

Malia's head shot up and she turned around so fast she thought she had whiplash for a second. The person who'd spoken was the girl in line behind her - actually, the only one in line behind her. The tight expression on her face almost made Malia want to sink through a hole in the floor because she wasn't worthy of this girl's presence. She walked like she owned the joint, her dark eyes scanning over everything while looking straight ahead at the same time. Her leather jacket and the few showing tattoos made Malia feel like she should be intimidated, and she was, but she was also curious.

In short, Malia was _sure_ she was looking at a goddess.

But most goddess' didn't walk forwards with authority, _jump over the counter_, and start mixing drinks like she actually worked in a Starbucks. "Miss!" the barista called. "What do you think you are doing?"

The girl turned around for one second, grabbing a cup and mixing more ingredients without even looking. "It's Kira, not 'miss', for one," she said. "And I'm making the drink that you're clearly not competent enough to make yourself."

Malia would've laughed if she wasn't so shocked (and a little starstruck, even though she was pretty sure that nobody named Kira was too famous at the moment). The barista, though, looked like she just got the air punched out of her. "Excuse you!" she yelled, her face flushed, "You don't work here! You're holding up business!"

At that, Kira stopped her whirlwind of activity and just stared at the barista, head on. Malia thought that one of their heads was going to explode before either of them backed down from the stare, but then Kira leaned in and hissed, "You see anyone in the store? Huh? Take a good look."

Malia was sure the barista gulped. "No one except her." It took a few seconds for Malia to realize that she was the 'her.'

"That's right," Kira continued. "Maybe if you did your job right, there'd be more. But I'm going to make 'her' that latte, and then you're going to make me my drink, okay?"

"Okay," the barista whispered. "Whatever you'd like."

Malia's throat felt dry and she still wanted to fall through a hole, but quietly she said, "You don't have to do that." Anxiety struck her heart when she realized that she'd actually spoken. She hadn't meant to, honest.

The goddess of a girl - no, Kira. She had to learn to call people by their names in her head - turned towards her for a second before she went back to mixing the drink. "I do," she said simply. "Just call it a favour."

"Um," Malia stuttered, mentally slapping herself every time she stumbled, "I, um, don't have anything to give you."

Kira just shrugged, capping the drink and placing it on the counter in front of her. The drink looked extremely pristine, the cardboard sleeve already on, no drips coming from the top. "That's why it's a favour, not a trade," she replied, smiling. Quickly, she jumped back over the counter so they were standing face to face. "You don't have to do anything."

Malia was so close to her, but half of her wanted to run away and half of her wanted to stay. She hated being like that around new people, she did. "Thank you," she said, but it came out as a squeak. Even so, Kira just smiled and turned back to the counter, paying for her own order. Malia was still standing there stupidly, coffee in hand as Kira gave her a smile and walked out of the shop.

About another minute went by - the barista probably thought she was brain dead or something - Malia finally gathered her wits and left the shop. By now, she was probably exceedingly late for her shift at work, as she had ten blocks left to walk, but for some reason, she didn't care.

As she walked through the windy streets, she bumped into almost everyone she passed, but her mind didn't even register. Instead, her thoughts were only of Kira, and she didn't know why. The latte was the best one she'd ever had, to start with, but it wasn't just that. Malia found herself thinking of the way Kira moved, her dark leather jacket, and the few tattoos perking up from behind her clothes. Her hair was long, and it glistened even in the dim store light. She had eyes that held a million secrets, yet she seemed as open as a book.

Malia did that with a lot of people. She'd meet someone, or just get a glimpse of them, and become infatuated within one second. It sucked, because she knew she was never going to see Kira, a.k.a goddess of a girl, ever again. But still, her mind (and her heart) didn't listen to those thoughts, so here she was.

She was a fast walker, so before long she'd reached the office building where she was an intern. It wasn't a great job - she was like a secretary for a secretary, but it paid okay, so she could deal with it. Taking the last sip of her coffee, she moved to throw the entire thing out, but then she sighed and took the sleeve off first. There were different bins for cardboard and cups, so, being environmentally friendly was probably the least she could do.

She threw out the sleeve, and then moved to throw out the cup, but then she realized there were a few black marks on the cup, underneath where the sleeve had covered. "What even…?" she muttered out loud, moving her hand.

As soon as she realized what they were, her eyes widened and she was sure she stopped breathing. People probably thought she was a lunatic, as she started jumping up and down on her heels, yelling "Oh my god!" over and over.

On the cup, hidden by the sleeve, was a phone number written in Sharpie, signed with 'Kira.'

"Don't make me do this. Oh my god, don't make me do this."

Lydia turned to look Malia right in the eyes. "Hon, you're doing this. Right now."

Allison and Lydia, her two friends, had just found out about the phone number that Malia had neglected to call. It wasn't that she didn't want to or anything, but her nerves were skyrocketing. What if it was a joke? What if Kira was just trying to play her? What if she just wanted to, like, hook up and leave it at that?

"Why does it have to be right now?" Malia complained, staring at the digits she'd written on her hand. They were walking back from work (they were all secretaries to secretaries. Malia would never understand _why_ the secretaries needed so many more secretaries) towards their apartments. Lydia and Allison roomed together, while Malia lived a floor down.

"So we know that you won't back out later," Allison said, as gentle as possible. "Relax. You can do this."

"I don't know," Malia sighed.

"I do," Lydia countered immediately. "Now, take out your phone."

When Lydia put her mind to something, there was no stopping her, and in this case, Malia kind of didn't want to stop her. "Fine," she conceded, taking out her phone. Her hands were shaking and she almost dropped it, but Allison put her hand on her shoulder and Malia felt a hundred times better. Lydia and Allison made an interesting pair - Lydia always wanted to put something together, and Allison was always ready to pick up the pieces in case it broke.

Shakily, Malia punched in the number and then slowly brought the phone to her ear. One ring, two rings, three rings went by, before the line was picked up and a very familiar voice said, "Hello?"

It was Kira; Malia would recognize the voice anywhere. "Hi," she said slowly. "Um, this is Malia."

"Sorry, I don't know a Malia…unless you're the girl from the Starbucks…?"

Gulping, but internally relieved, she said, "Yeah, that's me."

Malia could almost hear Kira's smile. "Hi! You took so long I wasn't sure if you were going to call."

"Sorry, I was at work."

"Oh, okay. Well, anyways - do you want to have coffee with me?"

For some reason, as soon as she heard 'coffee' Malia suddenly felt a lot less nervous. Kira was genuinely interested, like no one else had been. "I'd love to," she said, "As long as you don't take over the store again."

Kira's laugh was probably the most sincere, joyful laugh Malia had ever heard, and she thought she detected a hint of relief in there, too. "Hey, c'mon. You can't deny that latte was superb."

"Yeah, you're right. It was the best one I'd ever had."

There was two seconds of silence - Malia counted - before Kira continued, "Well, how about the same Starbucks? Maybe we'll even get the same barista. I'd love to scare her again."

"Somehow, I'm not surprised," Malia replied. "Alright, I'll see you - tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow," Kira agreed, and then they set up a time. When they hung up, it didn't feel finished to Malia. Instead, it felt like something new, something good, something she hadn't ever had.

"So?" Lydia prompted as soon as the phone call ended.

"So…I've got a date?"

Lydia put on her classic 'see-I-told-you-so' look, and Allison squeezed her shoulder. For the rest of the walk, the two girls asked Malia everything she knew about Kira, and Malia didn't feel burdened to answer.

Kira had no idea what Malia would want, but today she wanted to be kind to her, to show her that her exterior was not the same as her interior, so she walked up to the counter and ordered two cinnamon dolce lattes, for here. The barista was a guy this time, and he actually knew how to do his job, so thankfully Kira didn't have to jump any counters. As much as it looked like she did, she didn't actually enjoy threatening people. Well, not _that_ much, at least.

She chose a booth by the window once the lattes arrived and waited for Malia, praying desperately that she'd show. Kira would look like the worst kind of fool if she didn't. Five minutes went by before the door opened again and Malia walked slowly walked through. In that instant, Kira thought maybe it was going to be okay - maybe Malia could finally help her move on.

"Um, hi," Malia said quietly, slipping into the seat across from Kira. Her eyes, already cast downwards, landed on the drink in front of her. "Is - Is this for me?"

Kira fought the urge to laugh. "Yep." She was just _so cute._

"You remembered," Malia laughed, finally looking up. Her eyes were what she liked best, Kira thought - they sparkled with this hint of joy and wonder that Kira hadn't seen in a long time.

"It's hard to forget," Kira promised. "Sadly, though, I didn't make this one."

Malia took a small sip. "Yours was better, but thanks…this is really sweet of you."

The smile that crept onto Kira's lips was so genuine it almost shocked her. She hadn't smiled like that in so long…"Anyways," she continued, "Tell me about yourself."

Malia's eyes widened a bit, but she nodded. "Right…well, my name's Malia…Hale. Malia Hale." Kira raised an eyebrow at her hesitation, but she didn't want to say anything in case Malia didn't want to tell. However, Malia caught on to her hint anyway. "I was adopted," she explained. "But my adoptive parents kept that from me; I don't know who my real mother is, but my real father is…not a nice person. And his last name is Hale."

"So you chose your birth father's name," Kira said, nodding. "I get that."

"Really?" Malia asked, relief hinting her tone. "Not many people do, considering who my father is. When I said he's not a nice person, I really wasn't kidding."

Kira gave her a reassuring smile and nodded again. "No, it's like - sticking with your roots, regardless of where they are. It's a pride thing. I definitely get that."

"Thanks," Malia said, and when she smiled, Kira swore the entire room stopped. She felt like it was just them, sitting here, and nobody else was important. If this moment lasted forever, Kira was sure she'd be perfectly content.

"Right," Malia finally continued, seemingly more at ease now, "My name's Malia Hale. I work at an office building, some ten blocks from here. I live in an apartment, alone, except for my fish. Umm…I like quiet, books, and the rain."

"Nice to meet you, Malia," Kira said, laughing. "My name's Kira Yukimura. I'm currently searching for a job, though I'm sure I'll find something soon. I also live in an apartment, alone; though a fish would be nice. And I like music, any kind of music, and the rain as well."

"Nice to meet you, Kira," Malia said quietly, holding out her hand. Kira couldn't resist laughing as she took Malia's hand in her own and they shook softly.

They didn't say anything for a while, and that was okay with Kira - she was perfectly fine admiring Malia, they way she moved, the way this one piece of hair kept falling in front of her eyes, the way the light caught her eyes - until Malia suddenly said, "Hey, you said you were looking for a job?"

"Yeah," Kira replied, taking a sip of her drink. "My last job didn't work out."

"Come work with me," Malia blurted suddenly, and then she clasped her hand over her mouth like she was surprised that she'd asked.

"At an office?" Kira said, laughing. "To be honest…I don't know if that's for me…but you know what? I like you, Malia. I'd love to."

Malia's expression went from something like wonder to amazement to seriousness. "Okay," she said breathlessly. "I think I can get you referred, to the boss, and give you a recommendation, plus it helps you know me, so just mention my name if they interview you - wait, what did you say?"

She was cute when she rambled, Kira thought. Then again, she was cute all the time. "I said that I like you," Kira began, slowly, "and…I hope to like you for a while yet."

Malia froze in place, breathing rapidly, staring at Kira like she was from Mars. "You…You like me?"

"Well, yeah," Kira replied. "Otherwise I wouldn't have risked making you a latte. I could've got banned, you know. But it was worth it."

The corners of Malia's lips raised into a smile. It was a hesitant one, but it was there. "Thanks," she said. "I…I like you too, Kira."

They sat there, just talking about mindless things for what seemed like hours, but all Kira heard was _I like you too. _Those words replayed in her head, again and again, and she didn't want them to stop. She'd had relationships before - but Malia was genuine. Malia was real, unlike anyone else, and she loved that about her.

When Malia finally apologized and said that she had to head to work for an afternoon shift, Kira wasn't sad. Instead, she was hopeful, of things that would come and words that would be said. She knew this wasn't the last time they'd see each other; she'd make sure of that. "Do you want to come with me?" Malia asked as they were standing up and walking out of the Starbucks.

"To your work?"

"Yeah," Malia said. "You know - I could get you a job."

Kira's eyebrows raised in surprise. She'd forgotten all about that. "I'd love to," she said, smiling, and together they walked the blocks over to the office building.

True to her words, Malia got her a job. It wasn't even hard - no one asked her for an interview, no one asked for her references, and only one person asked for her name to put her on some list. Malia said the words "she's my friend" and suddenly everyone respected her. "You start today," some woman told her. Kira never objected; in fact, she didn't say much of anything, but still, no one cared.

"You've got quite the reputation," Kira laughed as Malia brought her over to their work area.

"Yeah, well," Malia laughed, "I've been working here for a while, I guess."

"Thanks, for this. This is…the best thing anyone's ever done for me."

Malia turned to look at her, surprised. "Really? I mean - it isn't that big of a deal, right?"

"It is, though," Kira said. "We've had one date, and already you're giving me a job? You trust me that much?"

"I do," Malia replied instantly, her voice quiet, but sincere. "I do trust you."

Kira smiled at her, touched in places no one had bothered reaching for, to see two other girls staring at them, their mouths open in shock. "Okay," one of them said, "That's it. You two are perfect for each other."

Malia just laughed. "Kira, this is Lydia and Allison," she said. "They're my friends, and they work with us."

"Nice to meet you," Kira said, extending a hand, but the girl who'd spoken before - Lydia - just grabbed her coat sleeve and pushed it up, revealing Kira's tattoo on her wrist.

"I like it," Lydia said. It was simply the word 'commit' written on the inside of her wrist, but Lydia seemed entranced. "What does it mean? Why'd you get it? When did you get it?"

The other girl, Allison, was fighting laughter. "Well, Lydia, you definitely know how to make an impression."

"I've been told," Lydia replied, not looking up, just staring at the tattoo. Finally, she raised her head and actually looked at Kira. "Now spill."

"Spill what?" Kira asked.

"Everything. That way, we'll know if you're worthy of Malia. Just tell us everything."

Even though Kira hated talking about herself, for some reason, she didn't mind. She sat down on the floor with everyone - they were sorting papers - and just started talking.

And, in that moment, she swore she was floating.

And for six months, she didn't touch the ground.

In those six months, Kira's and Malia's relationship grew stronger than ever, and there were bonds between them that could never be broken. Kira was proud to call Malia her girlfriend, and she loved everything about her and about them. It seemed impossible that life could go back to how it was for her _before._

But never mind that. She didn't like to talk about before, when Scott - no. Scott didn't matter now.

It got to the point where when Kira had to say goodbye after work, she found herself missing Malia. The hours apart were short, sure, but rarely did a thought that wasn't about her cross her mind. She felt like she could only focus when Malia was around, and for some reason, she wouldn't have it any other way.

That was why she was going to ask Malia to move in with her.

At least, she _was._ Until, when she was alone one evening, her phone buzzed. She smiled - only Malia ever called her on this number - but when she saw the call display, she froze. Her heart sank, and she stopped floating. No - she hit the ground, _hard._

Because even though she'd deleted his contact a long time ago, she could never forget those digits.

Slowly, Kira's finger lowered and she hit the 'accept call' button, even though she was screaming at herself not to. "Scott," she said, hoarsely. "What do you want?"

Most of the time, Kira tried to put on a confident demeanour, but right now was not one of those times. First, she had a meeting with Scott McCall, and second? She had a relationship. A real relationship.

"Okay," she sighed, running her fingers through her long hair. Even though she _should_ be thinking about Scott and what he wanted, all she was thinking about it whether Malia would like her hair up or down, her jacket open or closed, her eyes subtle or bold. Malia had liked her so far, but what if she suddenly stopped?

She knew what Scott would've liked - but Malia was definitely not Scott, and for that she was grateful.

A sharp knock came on her door about ten minutes later, shocking Kira out of her thoughts. "Coming!" she called, taking a deep breath and throwing her nerves away. Scott was the one who had taught her to do that - it was probably the only skill she kept from her time with him. Quickly, she opened the door, and she had to resist the urge to slam it in Scott's face.

"Hi, Kira," he said, in that smooth voice of his, stepping inside uninvited. He took a quick look around her tiny apartment and continued, "Nothing's changed, has it?"

"A lot has changed," she said, closing the door, but not before making sure no one else was out in the hallway. "What are you doing here? You wouldn't tell me over the phone."

Scott just scoffed. "Of course I didn't tell you over the phone. You know how easy those things are to hack?"

"Yeah, I know," she sighed. "So? Tell me."

"I need you to make a run."

"No way. I'm out. I told you, I'm out. I am never doing that again, especially not for you."

Scott stepped closer to her, and Kira took a step back, closer to a drawer holding knives. "C'mon, Kira," he said softly. "Don't make this about us."

"It's not," she hissed. "I am done with you and with your people. That's my choice, and you let me go."

"I need you back."

"Get Stiles to do it, or Isaac, even, or someone else."

"They're busy."

"Then recruit someone new. Someone who isn't me."

A soft smile spread onto Scott's lips. "You know I can't do that." He stepped one step closer, and in sync, Kira stepped back. "You'll get paid. It'll be fast, and easy. All you need to do is go find Derek and tell him, 7-3-6-9."

"You're working with Derek?" Kira whispered, a trickle of fear working its way into her system. She'd only ever seen Derek once - he was the leader of a rival group (Kira hated saying 'gang'), and him and Scott were definitely mortal enemies.

"Derek and I are working to tie up some loose ends from our last exchanges," Scott said, shrugging, stepping forwards one last time. Kira tried to step back, but she bumped into the counter behind her. Carefully, her hand closed around the knob on the drawer, so she could pull out a knife if needed.

"Those numbers," Kira said softly, "Those numbers are the kill order. Who is going to be killed?"

"You're going to tell him those numbers. He'll say 4-5-4 back. And then you'll say Kate."

Kira gave an involuntary sigh of relief. She didn't know a Kate, and while she didn't want anyone to die, there wasn't anything she could do about it. If both Scott's group _and_ Derek's group wanted her dead? She was a goner. "Why?" she finally asked. "Why would I do this?"

"Because," Scott said simply, "Otherwise, Malia dies."

Kira's breath caught in her throat. "How do you know about Malia?" As soon as he said it, she knew she was screwed. There was no way she was getting Malia involved in all of this, no way at all. Even though the rational part of her was saying to get out now, to leave town, to find something else, _someone_ else, she couldn't. She knew she would never.

Because Kira couldn't deny her heart. It was funny, she thought, that the organ that kept you alive also determined _who_ kept you alive. "Fine," she snapped. "I don't - fine. I'll do it. When?"

"Today. Right now. Derek will be in the alley between the movie theatre and the convenience store."

"I know where Derek hangs out," she grumbled. Finally, Scott stepped away, and Kira let go of the drawer handle. "But it'll have to wait. I have-"

"A date," Scott laughed, turning and walking out of the apartment with his usual air of confidence that made Kira sick to her stomach. "You'll have to postpone." Before he left, her turned around one last time, his eyes unreadable. "Remember - you do this, or Malia dies."

Kira shut the door as quickly as she could, resting all her weight on the piece of wood before her legs gave out and she crumpled to the floor. Right now, the floor seemed a lot more comfortable than anywhere else.

She had no idea how much time passed, but finally, Kira regained control of her nerves and she reached into her pocket to dial her phone. She stood up, entering in Malia's number as she did, praying that her relationship would remain intact through whatever was going to happen.

"I never told you."

Kira's words snapped Malia out of her daze. "What?" she asked. "Told me what?"

"What my tattoo means."

Malia turned her head to look at Kira, who seemed nervous. "You don't have to," she said. "If you don't want to. It's personal, isn't it?"

"Yeah," she said, "But…I don't want to keep things from you."

"Okay," Malia said softly. "Thanks."

Kira paused, but then she began, "I was in a dark place, a long time ago. Nothing seemed to be going right, and I wasn't sure what to do. But I - well, to make a long story short, I figured out that I had to put myself first, at least for a while. I had to learn to care for me. I - I had to learn to commit, commit to _me_.

"So I tattooed it on my wrist, so I'd always see it, so I'd remember to look out for myself. And it worked. I got more confident, I finally got a small job, I paid off my debt - things were looking up. I met you about three months after that, you know." She stopped to take a breath, but Malia swore she could listen to her voice all day.

"Wow," Malia said after Kira still didn't say anything. "That's…really inspiring, you know?"

"Yeah," Kira laughed. "The tattoo has helped. It's a reminder, as well as a memory. But there's something else I want to do now, something else the tattoo is telling me to do."

Kira turned to look at Malia as well. "It's you, Malia. I want to commit to _you_."

Malia inhaled sharply. "I - I don't know what to say."

"I want…I want to move in together. I want to show you how much I care about you. I want to show you that I - that I love you. I want to commit to this. To _us_."

Malia realized that they weren't walking anymore but she didn't care - the rest of the world could go fuck itself for all she cared. "I love you too, Kira," she finally said, breaking out into a smile when Kira's words finally registered. "I love you so much and I - yes! Yes, of course I want to move in with you!"

Kira let out the must beautiful laugh then, and Malia couldn't help herself - she stepped forwards into Kira's arms and kissed her, letting the moment sink in forever.

She didn't want it to end, and though she knew it would, she could always hope.

Three weeks later Scott called Kira again. This time, she was going to give the kill order to Derek - someone named Aiden was going to bite it - and if she didn't, Malia would be killed.

Yeah, she had done the first run, but a second one? She'd made it clear to Scott she was done. But what if she would never really be done? What if she was stuck, in Scott's gang (might as well say it like it is) forever? What if one day, she did something wrong, and Malia…

She couldn't think about it. She just made the run, staring into Derek's eyes and telling him that Aiden, whoever he was, was going to die. The worst part? She didn't even feel sad doing it. She felt relieved, because this meant Malia was safe, and that made her sick to her stomach. What kind of person was she?

So she'd tell Malia she was going shopping, or going for a walk, or going somewhere _innocent_ when really she'd go condemn someone to death. This happened three more times, and each time, she felt more and more anxious. How many people were going to die?

There were only two ways this was going to end. Either Scott would let her go, or Malia would die because Kira would screw up, like she always did. And she didn't see Scott stopping any time soon.

She just wished she could feel sad about this, but instead, she felt like stone, and only Malia could take that away. If that ended? What did she have?

Malia was home alone, reclining on the couch - Kira and her had splurged just a little bit when they bought it - when suddenly, a buzzing filled the air. She checked her phone, but that wasn't ringing, so she looked over at the coffee table and sure enough, it was Kira's phone. She considered leaving it to voicemail, but she knew nobody else but her used that number, so she picked up, figuring it was probably a telemarketer. "Hello?" she said.

"This isn't Kira." The voice that met Malia's ears was male, deep, and soft. She definitely didn't recognize it.

"No," she said slowly, "This is her girlfriend, Malia. Kira's out right now. Who is this?"

The man just laughed. "Nice to meet you, Malia," he said. "My name's Scott. Where is Kira?"

"Um, she's out, on a walk, I think," she said. "She likes to go for walks. Sorry, can I take a message?"

"Oh, she's out on a run, alright. I thought she'd do it sooner. Well, that's good, I suppose. Well, just tell her Scott called - I have a new target for her. Thanks, Malia."

She had no idea what he was saying, but for some reason, it intrigued her. "Wait," she said, "What do you mean, a target?"

Malia could almost hear his surprise. "Oh, Kira hasn't told you?"

Her breath caught in her throat. "She's never told me about anyone named Scott. Are…Are you two friends?"

"No," he said. "We're not friends…I probably shouldn't tell you. If she hasn't told you, she doesn't want you to know…"

"Tell me," she snapped instantly. She surprised herself, honestly - but even if this guy was lying, or exaggerating, the thought of Kira lying to her made her sick. Honesty was the most important part of their relationship…or so she'd thought.

"If you insist," Scott said, laughing again. She hated his laugh. "Kira is not my friend. No, Kira was - is - employed to me."

"Kira works with me," Malia said slowly.

"During the day, maybe," Scott replied. "I'll put this simply - I'm the leader of an…organization, let's say. Kira works for me in this organization. She's a runner. I call her to tell her when a target needs to be taken out, and she goes and tells another organization."

Contrary to what a lot of people thought, Malia was smart. She knew _exactly_ what he meant by 'organization' even though she didn't want to admit it. "A gang," she whispered. "You're the leader of a gang."

"That's rough terminology, don't you think?" he said. "But yes, I am. I tell Kira when someone needs to die, Malia. Then she tells my associate Derek to kill them."

"You're lying," Malia said, quietly, but somehow she knew he wasn't. "Kira would never."

"Kira would," he said. "Now, I'd love to stay and chat, but I've got business. Tell Kira to call me back, alright?"

Before she could respond, the line went dead, and Malia dropped the phone, causing it to fall to the floor. She was pretty sure the screen cracked, but she couldn't care less, because at that moment, Kira opened the door and suddenly, all of her emotions surfaced.

"Hey, babe," Kira said cheerfully, locking the door and taking off her shoes. How could she act so normal? How could she just walk through the door like she hadn't signed off on someone's death?

"Tell me it's not true," Malia whispered. She was kind of scaring herself, the way she was hissing at Kira.

"What?" Kira froze where she was standing, her eyes flying over the scene, taking in the dropped phone and Malia's expression, and then suddenly, everything clicked and her mouth fell open into an 'o.'

The silence between them was so long, that about three times Malia wanted to just get her stuff and leave. Kira wasn't denying it, so Scott had been telling the truth. But how? How could Malia be living with - with a _criminal_? "I can explain," Kira finally said, stepping forwards.

Malia took a step back, stopping Kira. "No," she whispered. "You can't."

"They were threatening you!"

Malia's eyes shot upwards to lock with Kira's, who had covered her mouth after realizing what she'd blurted. "What?" Malia said.

"They said they'd kill you!" A single tear found it's way down Kira's cheek, which both scared and saddened Malia - she'd never seen Kira cry, not once. "If I didn't do it, Scott said he'd kill you."

Malia didn't even realize she was stepping back, away from Kira, until her back slammed against the door to their bedroom. "I can't," she whispered. "I can't right now, I just-"

Without waiting for more, she opened the door to the bedroom and closed it behind her. Then she finally allowed herself to cry.

Two hours went by. Malia was sure of that because the entire time she'd been watching the clock hanging on the wall opposite her, as it ticked away, haunting her.

She didn't even know what to think. If what Kira said was true - and she was pretty sure it was - then Kira had been doing this for _her_. But lying to her about it? About something like this? It wasn't Kira she was angry at, it was the lie. She could never be angry at Kira, but still…could they recover from this?

And, the worst part was that Malia knew Kira was going to keep doing this.

So, two hours, later, Malia was sprawled out on her bed, counting the seconds and the tears that went down her cheeks. By now, she'd made quite the flood.

A sharp knock shattered her thoughts and the door opened slightly. _Fuck_. She hadn't locked it. Sitting up, she waited for Kira to burst through, yelling apologies and begging for forgiveness.

Instead, all that came through was a Starbucks coffee cup. After it was pushed through, the door closed behind it.

Malia waited a minute to make sure Kira wasn't coming in as well before slowly getting up. She felt stiff, and worn out, even though just hours before she'd felt so alive. How could things change this quickly?

Nonetheless, she took the cup and instantly the smell of cinnamon hit her nose. "Cinnamon dolce latte," she whispered, taking in the scent. She almost smiled as she removed the lid and looked at the drink. After taking a small sip, it was obvious Kira had made this - she could never forget the way that first latte had tasted.

She almost gave the cup back, but then she knew she wasn't that cruel. Still, though, she didn't consider coming out until she'd finished the latte, which was the second best she'd ever had. Slowly, she removed the sleeve, and-

Of course. She was an idiot. Written under the sleeve was, _I'm so sorry, Malia. Scott told me I have one more run to make tonight. I know it's the last one. Scott keeps his promises. I'm going now to make the run. I'll be back tonight. What happens after that is up to you. _

_Promise me that you'll remember I love you, no matter what you decide._

She read it again, and again, and again, before the words hit her and she was jumping up and out of the room, desperate to tell Kira that she knew, of course she knew -

But Kira was already gone.

"I'm here to see Derek," Kira said in a quiet voice. She was at the alley she always met Derek at. This time, Scott had told her to tell him that there were no more deaths. For that, she was grateful. He'd promised this was it for her. And yeah, even though Scott was the worst person on the planet, at least he kept his word.

The boy standing at the front of the alley - she didn't recognize him - nodded and went to the back of the building to their left, where Derek always came from. Sure enough, seven seconds later, there he was. Kira wasn't scared of him anymore - maybe he was tall, and threatening, and never said more than needed to be said, but he wasn't scary after the tenth time.

The crisp air bit at her skin as she told him, "Scott says it's over. No more deaths. You're done."

Derek's dark eyes seemed to get brighter at night. The full moon was tonight, which illuminated the empty street in an eerie glow. "Is that so?" Derek asked, his voice deep and raspy.

"Yes," she replied, but something about this felt off. She turned to leave, go back the way she came and see what she would come back to, but then -

_Crack._

She knew that sound. Shit, she knew that sound. But she should keep walking. _Just keep fucking walking._ Pretend she didn't hear anything. Why wasn't she walking? Why wasn't she _moving_?

Her knees buckled and her head hit the ground. _Shit. Shit. Shit._ All sensation in her lower body was fading and she knew exactly why.

Scott was right. This was the last run. This was the last run because Derek Hale had shot her, right in the spinal cord, like Derek always did. It was his signature, right? Shoot in the spine, that way they can't run, and you can watch them bleed out in front of you.

She would've laughed if she wasn't gasping for air, trying to force herself up, _just get up_, just _run._ Of course. Scott was never going to let her go. But this way? No loose ends. No one to tell. He was safe.

He was smart, wasn't he?

The cold air didn't seem so cold anymore. _Shit._ It was too late, it was too late to go back, to see her, to see _Malia_, to tell her, to say words they never could, to just _see her._

It was too late. She'd fucked up, and it was too late.

She kept trying to breathe, to just get a solid breath, but she couldn't do that anymore. Her lungs were failing, her heart was stopping - but why? This wasn't fair. She'd thought her heart was so strong, beating for Malia, for them…but a small metal capsule could take that away? It didn't make sense.

Her breath left her body and she couldn't breathe. She couldn't see anything, and slowly, she lost the rough sensation of concrete under her. "I'm sorry," she tried to whisper, but no sound came out.

Kira Yukimura was dead, and she wasn't coming back.

Malia doesn't remember much about that day anymore. It's like a dream to her. She remembers the hospital calling her, she remembers going to identify the body - but after that? It's just a blur.

For days, weeks, months, she keeps whispering to herself, "I forgive you." Because it's not fair that Kira doesn't know that. And she'd like to believe that Kira was still there, somehow, somewhere. In the long run, it helps.

Nobody seemed to get it, but now she understands. It's been a year - exactly a year - since Kira died, and life goes on. It's sick, it's cruel, but life just…goes on. And so does everyone else. So now she's stuck, wondering what might've been, what could've been, _what should've been_, while everyone else…forgets.

Not her. She'll always remember.

But, still, life goes on, and so must she, in a way. At least she's learned not to cry anymore.

That morning, she goes into the Starbucks, ten blocks from where she works. They've hired someone new, to replace Kira. It's funny how people can say they care and then do things like that, only days after.

But still, she needs her latte. That sounds so petty now, but she can't help it. What would Kira do if she saw Malia give up? She'd slap her in the face and tell her she was being silly. So Malia doesn't give up. It's not easy, but she doesn't.

"Cinnamon dolce latte, please," she says in a soft voice to the barista.

"I'm sorry," the barista says, "We don't make that here."

It's like Malia's world is throwing her a test, just to see, just to see how she'll do. She laughs a little, surprising the barista, but she just looks up. To everyone behind her, she's staring at a Starbucks ceiling, but to Malia?

She's staring at _her._

"Thanks," she whispers. She's sure she should be crying, but instead, she can't stop smiling. Yeah, maybe life goes on, but sometimes it does things like this and for a fraction of a second, Malia can see how things might - _might_ - be okay, after all.

"That's okay," she says, hopping the counter, just like _her_. "I know how to make one."


End file.
